


Form A69

by SuperstringSymphony



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkward Sexual Situations, Background ThorBruce, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Time, Fuck Or Die, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, In One Instance, M/M, Multiple Background Pairings, Mutual Pining, Praise Kink, Sam is Not Involved in Pollen Shenanigans Because He's a Minor, Sex Pollen, So Much Pollen, Steve Needlessly Angsting About Tony Wanting Him, Team as Family, Tony Needlessly Angsting About Cap Wanting Him, background Clintasha, with consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 21:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14901911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperstringSymphony/pseuds/SuperstringSymphony
Summary: “Why me though? I mean-”  Tony puts his hand up, staving off whatever Steve was going to say for the time being.  “I didn't even know you were uh, okay with the thought of sleeping with another guy.  But um, why not Natasha, or-”“I like Natasha, but Natasha isn't you.”  Steve says softly, cutting him off before he can list anymore potential partners.“Oh.”  Tony whispers, completely at a loss.Or the Sex Pollen with Previously Discussed Consent Fic That Nobody Asked For.  Alternately-Steve and Tony Are Idiots and Pine A Lot. (And Natasha is done with them both)





	Form A69

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place before the avengers do the timewarp and takes place while they're all still living in the tower together. This chapter gets a bit suggestive near the end but no actual smut happens YET. Just be aware it's there.
> 
> Your comments and kudos mean the world to me, and if you'd like to come yell at me on another platform, here is my [tumblr](https://ilunabarrean.tumblr.com).

 

The idea comes up-as many things that later become important do-with a discussion with Natasha concerning a former mission. The team is in various parts of the main living area, but her voice carries over from where she's seated next to Steve.

“I'm just saying, it's an important protocol to have in the event of that happening. You don't want to be scrambling at the last minute Cap.”

“But that's so...clinical, don't you think?”

“I prefer pragmatic. Besides, what's worse, being pragmatic, or the _event_ happening and you're stuck wondering if you took advantage of someone in the aftermath? No thank you.” Natasha says, crossing her arms with finality. Over from where he's standing by the wet bar Tony sees the look of incredulity on Steve's face shift into understanding.

“No. You're right it's just.” Steve sighs, eyes big and so blue that Tony can't help but be drawn closer. “Do you really think someone would do something like that? It seems pretty dirty fighting even by a villain's standards.”

“What's dirty by a villain's standards?” Tony asks, sauntering over to perch himself on the arm of the couch closest to Steve.

“Hey.” Steve says, smiling when Tony passes him a bottle of the sweet lambic beer he hates but Steve has come to love.

“So-continue, I'm curious now.” He says, taking a sip of his own drink, reaching over to scrape his nails over Steve's scalp. Steve's eyes droop like a contented cat's, and Tony feels a little sliver of satisfaction settle warmly somewhere tucked away and secret.

“So nosy.” Natasha rolls her eyes, but there's a slight smile on her face so Tony doesn't feel too bad about it. “We were talking about aphrodisiacs, pheromones, that sort of thing, and it's not just villains though Cap, you never know if some extra-dimensional portal is going to open up, or we might run across some undiscovered plant.” She shrugs, shoulders rising and falling easily with the movement.

“The way you say that I kinda get the feeling this has happened before.” There's a slight blush across Steve's cheeks. Tony fights the urge to poke them. Natasha just fixes them both with one of her unimpressed stares.

“That's because it has. Clint was my spotter, and I was his.” She says bluntly, and Tony coughs into his cup.

“What, seriously, I mean I thought the two of you might have something going on-” Tony's words cut off when he finds himself on the receiving end of a glare that all but screams for him to shut up. Given that it's Natasha glaring he wisely chooses to snap his mouth closed and slurp at his glass instead. Steve is staring too though, one of his hands dropping to pat Tony's thigh companionably.

“But I thought the two of you weren't...” Steve trails off into awkward silence, fidgeting on the couch until Tony scratches at his scalp again and he settles with a sigh.

“It doesn't have to be someone you necessarily want a relationship with. It's about trust.” Natasha finally says, folding her hands in her lap. “All field agents had someone on their files to call in the event of that sort of emergency. It might sound strange, but it can save you from a lot of uncomfortable feelings and implications after the fact.”

“That does make sense.” Steve says slowly, the expression on his face changing to one Tony knows to mean there's a whole mess of strategy and decisions going on behind those gorgeous blues.

“Well-” Tony starts, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. “I already know who my spotter is then.”

“Who's that?” Steve asks, head cocked curiously, almost hopefully, but maybe that's just wishful thinking on Tony's part.

“Nick Fury, definitely, it's the trench coat mmmm oh yeah, gets me all hot.” Tony says, shrieking and dodging balled up napkins and bits of popcorn, laughing as he hops off the couch and goes to hide behind his bar. Things being thrown at him quickly devolves into an avengers style play brawl. By the time it's over there are downy feathers from the couch cushions floating in the air, and Clint is passed out across the giant foosball table. Tony forgot they even had one of those.

He shrugs, crawling out from beneath his hiding spot, only to come face to face with Steve. “Oh shhh-sneaky! You're way too big to move that quietly.” He exclaims, but Steve just smiles, reaching out to pick a feather out of his hair.

“Avengers meeting, tomorrow, Nine o'clock sharp Shellhead, don't be late.” Steve says without missing a beat.

“Oh sure, okay.” Tony nods absently, brushing debris, crumbs, and possibly plaster dust from his ceiling from the black material of his shirt.

“Off to bed now?” Steve asks, reaching out to cup his cheek-slipping his hand up to stroke a thumb just under his eyes. “Been resting? You look tired there mister big brain, gotta remember to give that noggin some time off.” Steve murmurs, the corners of his eyes crinkling fondly. Tony realizes suddenly that he's been holding his breath. He lets it out with a gusty sigh, hanging his head in defeat. He _was_ going to go back down to the lab to work on the probability engine, but with Steve looking at him so knowingly he knows the jig is up.

“I could sleep.” He concedes grudgingly, but it's worth it to see the pleased look on Steve's face.

“Walk you to your room?” Steve asks. His tone is casual, but his posture is slightly tense. Tony blinks slowly, licking his lips and nodding.

“Of course, what's up Captain handsome, something on your mind?” He keeps the tone light, walking beside Steve towards his suite. Their shoulders bump companionably. Beside him, Steve is worrying his bottom lip. He doesn't speak until they're in front of Tony's door.

“Can I come in?” Steve sounds almost hesitant. Tony's eyebrows raise in surprise, but he nods, stepping aside and cueing JARVIS to open the door for them both. Once they're inside Steve turns to him, gaze serious. Tony has a moment of panic that something in their silly fight in the living room has upset Steve, but that worry is soon gone with Steve's next words.

“I was thinking about what Natasha said. That's what the meeting is about tomorrow, but I uh..didn't want to spring this on you.” Steve says sheepishly. There's a flush working across his cheeks, but he still squares his shoulders, meeting Tony's wide eyes with his own.

“Yeah Steve, tell me about these thoughts, I'm all ears.” He says, waggling his eyebrows at Steve in a way he hopes is enticing. Steve frowns.

“Don't laugh.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I wouldn't laugh at you, not about this.” Tony says hastily, holding his hands up in a quelling motion. Tony doesn't think that Steve is a virgin, but he's definitely not the type to talk about sex and intimacy openly. This has to be difficult for him, whatever he's getting at.

“I-If that were to happen. The pheromones or that kinda thing.” Steve looks away now, but Tony can't look anywhere _but_ at him. “I trust you, you're my best friend, and pretty handsome to boot.” Steve finally says after a long protracted silence. Tony feels his jaw drop and hurriedly snaps it shut.

“Excuse you, I am _gorgeous,_ sex on legs, three time sexiest man alive, don't you 'handsome' me old man.” Tony knows the haughty tone will get Steve's back up, and surely enough he snaps out of his previous seriousness to glare at Tony; the glare deepening when Tony can't contain his snickering.

“Why you, I outta-” Steve grumbles as Tony steps close to wrap him up in a cautious hug.

“I trust you too Steve.” He whispers, when his laughter has subsided; breaths puffing out to ruffle the soft hair at Steve's temple. Steve takes a deep breath, wrapping big muscular arms around him and drawing him close.

“Want you to be my contact, in case that ever happens.” Steve murmurs into the quiet of the room. Tony knew it was coming, saw the trajectory of this conversation, and still gets blindsided. Steve's cheek is hot against his, and Tony leans back, eyes roving over Steve's face searchingly. Steve's jaw is set stubbornly, brows knit together in a fretful line of worry.

“Are you sure? Are you really sure that's what you want?”

“You're pretty much the only fella I want.” Steve stutters when Tony's eyes go wide. “To help with that, c'mon Tony I'm already embarrassed enough as it is.”

Tony smiles, leaning up to kiss Steve's forehead. “Don't be embarrassed. I'm glad you asked, because I'd want you to be the one too, or maybe Thor.” Tony says with a thoughtful pause that Steve shares. What can he say, big and blond is his type when it comes to men.

“Thor?”

“Yep.” Tony says, popping the 'p' at the end. Steve's eyes take on a slightly glazed look.

“You're picturing it aren't you?” Tony says with a grin.

“What, no, I wasn't-” Steve sputters, halting abruptly when Tony gives another little snicker. “You, you shaddup.” Steve grouses, clearly put out.

“Why me though? I mean-” Tony puts his hand up, staving off whatever Steve was going to say for the time being. “I didn't even know you were uh, okay with the thought of sleeping with another guy. But um, why not Natasha, or-”

“I like Natasha, but Natasha isn't you.” Steve says softly, cutting him off before he can list anymore potential partners.

“Oh.” Tony whispers, completely at a loss.

“I trust everyone on the team, but you're different.” Steve is looking at him, blue eyes warm but serious. His expression is so focused, so intense, despite the redness of his cheeks he's not looking away. Of course he's not. This is Steve Rogers, by all accounts and purposes the most stubborn and fearless man alive.

Tony looks back at him and wishes he had even half that bravery. Maybe then he wouldn't be so afraid to tell Steve how much he wants this to be more than an agreement over helping each other in the event of an emergency. Tony has slept with a lot of people in his pre-avengers, pre-arc in the chest days. He's suddenly aware of the fact that given Steve's past it's vanishingly unlikely that Captain America had a lot of time to explore his sexuality in the forties, especially given how high profile he was while doing those ridiculous bond sales. After that he was fighting, and then there was the whole, encased in ice for decades thing. Tony steels himself for the question simmering in his mind.

“Have you even ever been with a man before Steve?” He asks, all joking gone from his demeanor. A lot of people don't view their first time as something special, but Steve is from the forties. If Tony's going to do this, it seems like something important to know.

“I haven't, wasn't something I really had time to explore, but I knew enough to know the idea interested me.” Steve doesn't even hesitate, even if he does get a little bit more red around the ears. Tony is impressed.

“Oh.” Tony feels like he's repeating himself. The next words tumble out his mouth without further input from his brain. “Well Steve, maybe you ought to kiss me for science then.” So much for subtlety Tony, way to keep your crush under wraps. He thinks to himself with resignation. If there's one thing he's good at though, it's rolling with things when he's really put his foot in it.

“What? Tony!” He expects Steve to step back after that exclamation. To put space between them, but he just swallows. Tony tracks the bob of his adam's apple, licking his lips, and then snapping his gaze up to meet Steve's wide eyed stare.

“Hear me out, it's scientific conjecture, but supposedly, theoretically, kissing is one of the ways we homo sapiens decide, subconsciously of course, on some deep lizard brain level, whether or not we're compatible.” It's true, but it's also a load of hooey, because in the end this is a purely selfish suggestion. Steve says nothing, staring down at him for a long moment as if mulling this over. Tony tries not to vibrate out of his skin in the interim.

“Well-” Steve starts slowly, hesitantly. “I guess I wouldn't like my first kiss with a fella to be because I'm under some spell.”

“You, you have had a first kiss before though right?” Tony doesn't know if the answer will change things for him, but he'll cross that bridge when they come to it.

“I've had a few kisses, don't worry, I'm not some rube that doesn't know how to smooch.” Steve's smile is wide, but Tony knows him well enough to see he's nervous even if he's making a joke about it.

“Hey.” Tony says, poking Steve in the chest. “Even if you didn't know how to uh 'smooch', that's okay too, nothing wrong with inexperience.” He's just about to go off on a rant about toxic hypermasculinity and the notion that men have to be ready and raring to go; when Steve starts walking them backwards.

“I know, but I'm not telling tales. Had a few kisses, just none of 'em with a man.”

“Steve, where are we going?” Tony asks, following Steve's steps regardless, until they're standing just in front of the plush black leather couch in the far corner of the room. Steve tilts his head down, fixing Tony with an expectant stare completely at odds with how red his ears still are.

“Well I figured you wouldn't want to try this right in front of the windows shellhead.” Steve still sounds a little shaky, so Tony steps closer, reaching up to stroke his thumb over Steve's cheek, then down to rest both of his hands on Steve's broad chest.

“No one can see in, windows into my room are fully polarized but thank you for thinking of everything.” Tony says sincerely. Now isn't the time for jokes. Steve is probably shy about kissing, self conscious and worried he won't be good at it. Tony smiles at him encouragingly, and then Steve is leaning down, pressing his lips to Tony's cautiously.

The first touch of their lips is more a question than anything else. Just a dry rub of their mouths together. Steve's lips are so soft, warm, just the simple contact sends shiver down Tony's spine, and god Tony wants this so badly. Steve hums, tilting his head to brush his lips over Tony's again, one of his arms goes around Tony's waist, pulling him closer, pressing their bodies together tightly. Okay, so maybe Steve and the word shy should never be in the same sentence. Tony's arms are trapped between their bodies, so he wiggles them out, getting his fingers into silky blond hair, opening his mouth against Steve's, and deepening the kiss with the experience of long practice. Steve tastes warm, sweet, like the lambic he'd been drinking earlier, and the tiny chocolate kisses he had been eating by the handful. Tony can't get enough.

He shivers, pulling Steve closer, a short moan escaping him when Steve lets one of his own slip. They part and then return seamlessly, one kiss becoming many. It's so easy to kiss Steve and be kissed in return-as if they've always been here, doing this. Tony can feel his heart pounding in his chest, rabbiting away as Steve sits down on the couch behind them. They break for just a moment, before Steve kisses him again, pulling Tony down atop his lap inexorably, his arms tight around Tony's waist.

“Is this good?” Steve asks against his lips, breathing the question into Tony's mouth.

“Yes. Yes, it's good.” Tony says, dragging in a long inhale of breath. Steve shifts beneath him, going in for another kiss. Tony meets him eagerly, tangling their tongues together and groaning as Steve braces his palm across the small of Tony's back, beneath his shirt. His hand feels hot, branding, as if Tony will always feel it there. Steve nips at his lips, slipping his other hand up Tony's back to press between his shoulder blades, and then Tony finds himself being flipped down onto soft couch cushions in a move so artful it could have been pulled from his own seduction playbook.

Steve pulls back, leaning up to put space between them, his blue eyes are blown, just tiny rings of color around the pupil. It's just a physiological reaction, Tony reasons, kissing feels good, no matter who it is if they know what they're doing. There's no way Steve is getting as much out of this as Tony is. Steve is smiling down at him warmly though, as if he's been wanting this. He touches Tony's lips, and Tony fights the urge to get those fingers in his mouth. That's not what this is about, this is just kissing. They're just seeing if Steve can tolerate that. Simulated blowjobs are _definitely_ not part of this whole scenario.

It's difficult to remember that with the way Steve's eyes are locked on his mouth, particularly when he presses his thumb against Tony's kiss swollen bottom lip. Tony lets his eyes close, let's his head fall back against the couch when Steve's hips settle between his thighs.

Steve is hard.

There's no avoiding the thought with all of that pressed against him. Steve is very, extremely, _obtrusively_ hard. Tony sucks in a gasping breath, hoping against hope that Steve can't feel how hard _he_ is. This is just a kiss-multiple kisses after all, and with Steve's minimal experience it makes sense he'd get excited, this doesn't mean he actually wants Tony. Even though Tony is about two seconds away from offering to get the lube, Steve can't possibly want that. He has to get himself back under control, he has to pull away from Steve, has to get up off the couch and pretend this is all in the name of curiosity. That thought goes fluttering away when Steve braces one hand on the couch, Tony feels it dip the cushion down beneath his back, and then Steve is kissing him again, and it's all Tony can do to keep his moaning from getting too loud and obvious. Steve is rocking against him slightly, and the thought that this is Captain America, no, this is _Steve_ rubbing against him, hot and aroused; that's almost enough to make things come to a very embarrassing and immediate end. So much for pulling away, he thinks somewhat distantly.

“Tony.” Steve half groans, trailing a searing line of kisses over his jaw, down his neck. “Tony I-I-” His voice skips as Tony rocks up against him. It feels incredible, Steve kissing him, Steve running his hands all over him, brushing his hair away from his face and tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. Tony slips his hands over broad shoulders, feeling the flex of powerful back muscles as Steve moves against him, and it's good, it's so, _so,_ good.

It's also wrong. The thought breaks through his lust fogged mental exclamations with all the force of a battering ram. Steve doesn't want him like this. Tony has never been the kind of guy to take advantage of another person. Tony likes his partners explicitly willing and enthusiastic. Steve is a friend, his _best_ friend no less, but he's not a lover, and he doesn't want to be a lover. Silently cursing himself and his rampant libido, Tony pulls back, arms going out to put distance between himself and the very blissed out looking supersoldier above him.

“Well.” He says lightly. “I think we knocked that one out of the park, don't you winghead?”

For a moment Steve stares down at him uncomprehendingly. His chest is heaving, a tiny bead of sweat making a glittering trail down his forehead.

“Tony, what?” He gets out, and ah, there's the flush. Steve visibly turns red just about to his toes. Tony smiles, patting his shoulder companionably, studiously avoiding the elephant in the room that is Steve's very large and very noticeable erection pressed against his hip. _See, I can be a team player._ Tony thinks, somewhat hysterically. God Steve feels good. He doesn't say that though, Steve looks embarrassed enough as it is.

“I think we can safely say that kissing isn't off-putting for either one of us, so um.” Tony falters, as Steve very slowly rolls off of him to sit on the end of the couch. “Um. Go us?” He finishes weakly. He wants to sit up and clasp Steve's shoulder. Steve looks more than a little mortified, and that's just not on. Tony hates it when Steve looks like that, so he gingerly sits up, pushing his shirt out and trying to pull it over his own obvious arousal as he goes.

“I'm sorry, kinda got carried away, you're so- and I wanted-” Steve shakes his head, standing abruptly before Tony can say anything more.

“Hey winghead, it's okay, really.” He says gently, reaching out to take Steve's hand where it has balled into a fist at his side.

“It, It is?” Steve sounds so worried, so hesitant as he turns to look at Tony. The expression on his face is full of fear, as if Steve believes he's done something wrong, Tony just wants to kiss him again.

“Yeah, these things happen, it's natural, kissing is pretty fun huh?” Tony says, offering Steve an encouraging smile. His lips throb, Tony tries to ignore how much that makes him want to pull Steve back down onto the couch for round two. Steve slumps, shutting his eyes and taking a deep trembling breath, before squaring his shoulders and offering Tony a smile in return that doesn't quite meet his eyes. It looks a lot like his 'humoring the press smile'. Tony feels his stomach sink.

“Yeah, kissing is, great, really great. Better than great with you.” Steve murmurs the last part, but Tony still hears him. Steve can't mean it that way though, not the way Tony desperately wishes he did.

“Well, uh, I'm glad you approve, and it shouldn't be too terrible for you if we ever get whammied.” Tony tries to sound as reassuring as possible, he even pats Steve's hand. There, no harm done, hopefully Steve won't be too upset by their mutual inconvenient arousal. Even if Tony's is completely inappropriate. He had just wanted a kiss and then Tony had to go and make it _weird._ Nice going Stark, way to make things awkward.

“I liked kissing you.” Steve says quietly, almost guiltily.

“Oh. Well, I liked kissing you too, you're a great kisser Steve, anyone would be lucky to kiss you regularly.” That doesn't seem to have been the right thing to say. Steve makes a kind of groaning laughing sound, and then he's pulling away, shooting Tony another one of those not-quite-smiles over his shoulder.

“I'll see you at the meeting in the morning Tony, bright and early, don't go back down to the lab, you hear me smart guy.” Steve says, it lacks his usual smooth delivery, but Tony chooses to ignore that.

“Sure thing, captain's orders.” Tony says, trying for levity but ending up at weak and winded instead. Steve watches him walk over to his bed, gaze steady until he's done turning back the covers to his bed, and then he's striding from the room, letting the door slip shut behind him.

Once Steve leaves, Tony presses a hand to his mouth, fingers tracing over the places he swears he can feel the impression of Steve's kisses etched there like a hot aching tattoo.

“Fuck, I'm so boned.” He groans, raking a hand over his face and flopping backwards atop his soft mattress.

“Indeed sir.” JARVIS says.

“I don't need any commentary from the peanut gallery!” Tony growls, giving up and rolling over onto his stomach to yell his frustration into a pillow. JARVIS just tuts at him knowingly. The meeting in the morning is going to be an absolute disaster.

Tony strips down, tossing his clothes off haphazardly before slipping under his covers. Tonight's clothing pile is a job for tomorrow's Tony. He only hopes they never do end up getting hit with some kind of extra-dimensional sex magic or whatever the hell is out there. His heart barely survived kissing Steve Rogers, he can only imagine what actually sleeping with Steve would be like. Tony's eyes snap open, he stares up at the ceiling.

“JARVIS, please distract me.” He says, raking his hands over is face to keep from reaching down and imagining _exactly_ what sleeping with Steve would be like.

“Very good sir, shall I play Whale Song Playlist number one, or Clint's Sexy Cupid Montage number two?” JARVIS answers promptly.

“There's a Clint's Sexy Cupid Montage number one?” Tony asks, momentarily distracted from his Steve induced existential woes. JARVIS doesn't answer, merely projecting Clint's home movie project across the wall in living color. Tony feels his face twist in horror. That's a lot of Clint. “JARVIS I'm going to sleep, shut that off oh my _god.”_ Tony shudders, turning over to bury his face in his favorite pillow. The room goes blessedly dark after that. His last thoughts before dropping off to sleep are of the way Steve kissed him.

 

 


End file.
